


If Your Love Is Poison... (then I want you to make me bleed)

by PinkSage



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Gore, Everyone (well almost) needs Pidge, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Internal Conflict, Loss of Trust, M/M, Mystery, Royalty, Sexual Tension, So much angst, Toxic love, so much drama, so much history
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-09 20:51:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11676855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkSage/pseuds/PinkSage
Summary: "There is no rest for the wicked." Keith breathes, blue eyes amused as he watches Pidge's small hands clench against the covers, eyes flickering to the ancient but beautiful prince sprawled shirtless across one side of her, and then to Shiro, who was quietly stroking her hair back on the other."And wickedness seems to be all that they expect from me...and all I know how to be."In which Pidge chews off more than she can handle, and doesn't have the strength to let go.





	If Your Love Is Poison... (then I want you to make me bleed)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm scared on how I'm going to work with all these plot bunnies (lol plot? What's that), since i now have to type with a touchscreen instead of a comfy keyboard, and cant hold off my itch for writing as I'm now addicted to Voltron and Pidge especially...But let's just see how it goes. Enjoy.

Love is a sickness.

An epidemic that spreads like wildfire.

A disease... that consumes its victims whole and, in the end, only brings pain.

Pidge had, for so long, avoided allowing herself to give into such a sickness every since she lost her family so many years ago and had her desperation in reuniting with them rewarded only with sorrow.

Weeks of determined searching and filtering through the lies the government had spouted to her about pilot error lengthened into months of desperation and then years of growing doubt, depression, and dying embers of the only hope she had left.

What was worse is that she had not been the only one to suffer due to her futile search. In a heated moment of selfishness and pain, Pidge had abandoned her mother _alone_ in their hometown to go on her journey for the truth.

And by the time Pidge had dealt with her own inner demons and found the strength to return after failing to find her father and brother, the only thing that welcomed her back were ashes of her former home, the small and once beautiful house now victim to Zarkons explosive invasion. Along with the rest of her town..,and the knowledge that losing her daughter, son, and husband had killed Pidge's mother with depression until there was nothing left of her to suffer broke Pidge more than anything else. 

It was then, only then when Pidge knelt stricken and pale beside the blackened soot and burnt wood that made up the ruins of the home she had treasured as a child, that she knew that even if she defeated Zarkon and brought peace to the universe, everything that truly mattered to her was dead and gone. Forever. And she had only herself to blame. Only herself to hate.

By the time Pidge managed to accept she would never see them again, her heart had already become as brittle as stone and black like the ashes of her home. 

She never wanted to feel again after that day. But fate had a way of showing her that it didn't care what she wanted.

What she _needed_.

And if there had been any moment where Pidge wondered if fate was absolute, it would have been the day she met the only three men who could not only challenge it, but quite literally _conquer_ it.

She was not supposed to be capable of loving the very people who not only harbored Galra blood in their veins, but also inherited their insatiable bloodlust- the very family she had fought so hard to find for those dreadful years had, after all,  been captured and tormented by their race.

Only pain would be the result of loving them, as well as loving the former Gladiator who had also been cursed with having Galra technology forcefully stuck onto his body. But then, who was she to dictate what was wise or not.

Besides loving shells of what were once whole and strong men, she was also not supposed to set the prisoner who caused this chaos in the first place free, yet she was already painfully aware of how _that_ had gone.

But that is what is so interesting about fate isn't it. Despite her life, and the lives of her crew being dictated by choices, and choices always perfectly aligning with a predetermined 'fate', they could never truly know if they had changed their destiny at all if they made a different decision than they had before.

None of them would ever really know if fate could indeed be controlled. Because fate is, in the end, what will _inevitably_ happen. Regardless of whether it changes. Regardless of whether it shifts. They would all one day meet their end.

Just as it was the fate of many lives to be slain by three men who were surprisingly worth loving, she guessed it was only natural that she would be next in line to be met with destruction. It would not be by their hands that she would fall however, though no one would have blamed her for letting them after everything that had happened to her.

After all; only fools get back up when they are broken.

* * *

 .❀ Act I ❀.

* * *

 Lotor

_"The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways. I to die, and you to live. Which is better... That only god knows."_

* * *

10,000 years ago

World 825: **Z**

* * *

"Visitors? To whom do I owe this pleasure, I wonder." A prisoner, body daunted and worn down by the curses of mortality and filth, murmured in dry amusement when his eyes noted the magical dial on his prison door spin to the left, and then to the left some more.

It was only seconds before the dial turned white, alerting him to that it was not just a Visitor, but a Keeper who had come to see him.

The mans eyes flashed in interest as the dial clicked and unlocked, clearly revealing that it was no robot but a living life form gracing him with their presence. A grin slowly formed on his face as he watched the ghostly wisps of a binding spell unraveled before him.

The glowing blue energy around his cell, energy that had sucked away at his life force for years and kept him docile, starting to vaporize into smoke. He felt a burning fire suddenly build inside of his body, immortality returning if only for those few moments- his thin arms tightening and expanding- the natural muscle he had lost years before slowly forming once again.

The man sucked in the murky air of his cell, light filling his rapidly dilating eyes.

It had been too long since he had felt this alive. This _strong_. Millions of years inside of a prison world specifically made to drain a person of their strength and feed off of their flesh, sucking out their core and draining their blood like a vampire, would weaken even the most powerful of beings.

And he truly did love the scorching fire that coursed through him now, the pain of his bones grating back together into their rightful place sending a chill of pleasure down his spine.

Anyone else would have screamed bloody murder, writhed to the ground and tried to ward off at least a morsel of the hellish pain. But he only gasped in full gulps of air, a mirthless laugh leaving his lips as the warmth of blood returned the natural violet color to his previously chalk white skin.

So enraptured in the energy that poured into his once broken body that the man almost missed the screech of his prison doors blinking out into intangible darkness.

No other than The Keeper entered the room, a bored expression on her face as she idly ran her fingers over a pendant that lay against her neck. The room, now dark and cold with the blue energy gone from its presence, cast shadows over the woman's face as well as her lithe form as her eyes fell on the opposite end of the room.

When she saw the prisoner on the other side of the room with his head tilted all the way back, teeth gritting together in both pain and pleasure as an electrical current went through his body, the woman could only sigh. So calm did she turn and press her palm into the dial of the door, to anyone elses eyes it would have been seen as if she was not in any hurry to stop the ordeal.

Anyone else would have been in haste to turn the energy beam that cut off the prisoner from his power back on. Anyone else would have worried for their life and allowed their cores to pulse in panic the second they entered the prison world and fell under the princes radar.

She was not anyone else however and simply pressed her palm against the core of her chest and then hovered her hand over the security scanner. The dial dimmed, locking the iron doors behind her. The beat of her heels on the crystal lined floor filled the cell, the sound as deafening as if a pin had been dropped.

By the time the pale eyed woman turned and faced the prince, blue energy had enveloped the walls once more and instantly fed on the weakest being available; him.

In seconds the light left the mans body, eyes fading as the darkness fell over his form.

A grunt of pain left the mans lips as his skin began to rot, golden eyes fading to umber as his body quaked and fell to the floor. The vivid life and energy that had healed him only moments before was gone, and in its place a broken man now lay before her, his face against the crystal lining of the ground, unkempt white hair falling over his eyes.

The Keeper stared down at him a distance away, her blue eyes expressionless as she ran her fingers over the walls and frowned as the blue energy seeped onto her skin, blood emerging.

She wiped it away quickly, not bothering to try and heal herself as she approached the prisoner and crouched over him, her eyebrows raised in an almost condescending manner. One of her hands shot towards the mans head when he only grinned at her from his place beneath her on the floor.

She wrenched him from the ground and forced him to face her, gold eyes clashing with pale blue.

The Keepers expression did not change as the man grimaced, the strain on his neck clearly hurting him due her sudden movements.

He finally managed to drag the rest of his body from the ground, golden eyes falling on her face in amusement even as the energy around him began to slowly drain the mass of his body away.

The clash of their gazes was extremely brief however, as the man could barely summon enough energy to smirk at her before he groaned and slumped down, the only thing holding his head up was the iron grip of The Keepers hand.

"Way to ruin my fun." The prisoner chuckled, veins bulging on his neck and arms but no sign of pain visible in his expression, though his eyes were now forced into a squint as a tremor went through his body, the blue energy hungrily feeding off of him as The Keeper silently held him upwards.

Despite the weakness of his body, he went on anyway in an almost carefree manner, an expression that mimicked sadness on his face. "You don't visit me for a thousand years. And then when you do, not even a hello for your old friend? Ahh, Allulu. I should have known how cruel a woman could be."

"This is not a visit." The Keeper replied, her expression unchanging as her hand tightened on the mans hair. There was a hint of irritation in her voice as she pulled his farther and farther back, his mirth filled eyes only causing her ire to rise. "And I told you many years ago not to refer to me as Allulu. You have no rights to call me by my name.

"But you won't let me call you Allura anymore, what else can I do?" The man cooed, his murky warm breath washing over the woman's face.

Anyone else would have reeled back in disgust, but The Keeper didn't flinch even as the man continued to speak.

"But then, Allura has always been fit for those seductive maidservants that use to drag us back into the palace when we were young. You're not a desperate horny serving woman, are ya Allura? Or should I just refer to you as 'it' now? You always were like a robot prepared to listen to anything those old bastards told yo-"

"Shut up." The Keeper sighed, the grip on the infuriating mans head suddenly loosening as the first hint of anger flashed across the womans face. There was a loud crack as the prisoners head hit the floor, the sound ringing throughout the cell.

The Keeper, or Allura as the man had so shamelessly used to call her, was not surprised however when the man weakly lifted his head from the ground with no injury visible on his pale face. His eyes were shining even in the dim blue light of the room, gold flashing in never ending amusement as he looked up at Allura.

There was no anger in his eyes at her rough handling of him, as he had been subject to many 'visits' from several people in power who did much worse to him throughout his imprisonment in the hell they had made just for him.

Beyond the cell was an endless desert with many unimaginable beasts and horrors roaming the land. To escape the cell full of blue energy that only nightmares could create...well it was almost impossible. And yet there was never a precaution too deep to take. Never a line too far to cross. Not when someone as dangerous as he was in question.

The only thing he had learned to do in all of those years was to smile through it all, and it was very easy to do so now in the face of his former childhood friend- now prison keeper. Allura had known him well before he unleashed hell on their world. They could not have been called friends, but there had been a time where he could easily claim she had been the only one to truly make him laugh.

Whether that was because of her idiotic need to always help others, or because he simply found her naivity too hilarious to be genuine- even he didn't know. But even then when the Great Council of their world had condemned him and declaried him guilty for the many crimes, some too horrible to speak, she had been there. With her big pale eyes gazing at him behind the viel her father had always forced her to wear.

She had watched him as a young girl when the Espers under royal command led him through the courts, the eyes of hundreds watching him coldly as they led into a portal where he was to never emerge from again. He had never expected to see her face once more all those years ago. But now that she was one of the many 'Keepers', seeing her was inevitable.

Their reunion had always been anticipated. The fact that she had taken over a thousand years to finally come to him was of no consequence. It was better than rotting away alone in a cell where that damned energy fed off of him every second- made all the more painful since his regeneration could only do so much against it. And he knew despite the fact he would never wear his emotions on his sleeve, that Allura knew he was in pain.

Because even in coldness that adorned her face he could see the faint hint of sorrow in her gaze as she stared down at him now. He had learned to read her too well in their childhood, as well as everyone else, so it was easy to see that her displays of domination and cruelty had been and always would be only a show.

A show just for him since there was no living breathing lifeform other than them in the dark confines of the prison. He knew that if she could, she would have went back in time and saved him from this.

Even with the thousands of lives lost to his 'games' back then, it didn't matter- he knew she would have risked it. But she was no Time Keeper- she was just _his_ keeper.

And there was no way she could have stopped him. She was not stronger- nor was she more intelligent. She was just another face among the bastards that served the royal council, who bowed when she was told and relentlessly believed there was no way but the way of 'justice'.

Being a prince himself- or formerly so, he was perfectly aware that beyond the prison world was his home world where life continued to go on. And many were sure to say his name with distaste. A 'demon' they would have called him. A troublemaker who was not fit to be part of the royal family- even if only a former prince.

A disgrace to their world, someone that their children should strive not to be. That was the name he had made for himself. Even in his youth he had been a reckless shoehorn for chaos. Nothing had changed except for the level of destruction and the amount of people who were willing to overlook it. The latter being much less in quantity than the former. And yet, she still looked at him as if there was any hope that he would be reformed.

As if he had the capability for remorse, when he found nothing but amusement in causing pain all around him. She still held on to such foolish notions and yet in contradiction to herself she came to him now with a mask of indifference as she inflicted pain on his body- as if by doing so she could get rid of the scarce but still evident lingering faith that he had humanity inside of him still.

Yet beneath that mask there was hope. Hope that he would one day be freed from the hell the council had constructed. She still thought he could be redeemed.

And that's what made it all the more pathetic and yet hilarious for him.

"I'll gladly shut up," he finally muttered, voice raspy as another tremor went through his body, golden eyes sliding shut as if he was prepared to sleep. "But only if you a tell me why you've granted me with your lovely presence after so long. I'm sure you didn't come to see me out of the kindness of your heart."

So much mocking and sugary ice were the words he grit out, that the blue eyed woman before him could only shake her head in disgust. He felt no fear and cared for nothing but his own amusement. She almost wished she had pleaded harder when her handler, assigned by no other than her father the King, sent her to the prison world to relay a message to the former prince.

Anyone else could have done this who were fear more capable, she had tried to reason to them.

But then the prince would have been less inclined to give anyone else the cooperation _to_ listen. It had not surprised her, as much as it had irked her, that there were reports of him requesting her presence. Of course she had been busy throughout the thousands of years since he had become a criminal, rising in the ranks since she no longer had anyone of high birth to marry. No one to take care of her and set her life on the path her father had desired.

She was a woman now. And not only that, but a warrior. She should not have to face him now that she had succeeded in surpassing him, should she?

Well it was no matter in the end.

Of all the worlds she had traveled to in her life, this was the one place where she could never adapt to. With its lack of pure water, its lack of civilized life- it was a world stuck in one place in time, never moving or shifting. There was no moon to cast the tides or shine light on the land when the suns hellish rays finally died down.

There was no relief to the constant sting of death that hovered over whoever dared to enter. Even an Immortal had to fear the world, because nothing was exempt from death when it came to the cancerous blue energy that kept the prison so effective. She wished to finish this and get out of there as soon as possible, and allowing the prince to play his mind games would do her ill.

But she was stuck with him for now, and she knew that there was no escaping his annoying wiles. Allura could only brace herself and hope for the best.

"If you must know, Prince Lotor" Allura began, eyes calm as she spoke the princes name for the first time since her entrance. "The Council is about to sign a treaty to coexist with another world. I was sent here to safely escort you out of the inlands of the prison world here. You're aware of what happens when worlds merge of course? It hasn't been that long since you were imprisoned here."

"Coexist?" The prince murmured, his face carefully blank as he stared up at Allura. "Whatever would they want that for? The elders are so stiff necked they can barely handle having anything different than usual for breakfast. What, did they locate a new power source? Better land to build on? Who would make a treaty with them. Half of the universe hates their asses, and rightfully so."

"That is none of your concern." Allura replied briskly, eyebrow twitching at the insults Lotor poured out of his mouth with ease despite his weakened state. She sighed when the prince only chuckled at her cold reaction, and her eyes lowered briefly to the ground where the dark blue energy calmly floated around both of their bodies.

"I'd say it is my concern." Lotor muttered after a moment, surprising Allura when he suddenly grunted and once again tried to push himself off of the floor. For a moment Allura saw his old powerful self shine through the weak and pale state he was in now. But the image left as quickly as it came, the prince slumping against the wall and growling softly to himself when the blue energy began to instantly feed off of his body again.

"After all," the prince continued, his eyes struggling to mask the pain that the energy was inflicted on him as he steadily met Allura's carefully masked face. "When I finally destroy this prison world and take my rightful place back on the throne, I should be aware of the political shit that goes around here right? It's only fair that you tell me, since the council won't be alive to."

"Don't even joke about that." Allura replied as she stood up from the ground and flattened her tunic.

"The only reason they sent anyone here to transfer you is so the blue energy isn't set off by shift in the hemisphere. It would kill you if it goes out of control, and then heaven forbid if it manages to get released into our world. There's no way you're going to escape."

"Oh my dear, you underestimate the unbreakable will of a man after power." Lotor cooed as the woman leaned down and snapped her fingers, a pair of Anti-esper cuffs forming in her hands.

She did not even bother to roll her eyes when the prince pretended to shudder at the cold as she unlocked his shackles and replaced the rusty chains on his wrists with the cuffs.

"No, I'd say you underestimate the lengths the council will go to keep you trapped here. Now lift your hands please...no, don't touch me just lift your hands. There's a good prince." The cuffs snapped together with a resounding click, a dim yellow glow emiscating from it.

Lotor gazed down at his body, a flicker of relief flashing in his eyes as the blue energy in the room emitted a hissing sound and fled from his body, allowing the youth of Immortality to shine in him. The greasy and unkempt state of his mane was now replaced with long clean white hair, and the shadows and cracks on his once pale but now flushed violet skin was once again smooth and healthy.

Allura stood back as Lotor hefted himself off the ground in ease, a devilish smile that put his earlier smirks to shame forming on his face. Allura only folded her arms and watched as the prince held out his hands and laughed at the returning life in his form. He did not even turn to gaze at the cowering blue energy that seeped at the far corners of the room, his attention too enamored on his brightening skin, the lines of his muscles growing more pronounced every second.

' _Just wait, Father_.' Lotor thought, his expression alarmingly calm as Allura took a deep breath and gestured for him to follow her. ' _I'll find that damned lion you're so obsessed with. I'll escape from this hell. I'll resurrect you. And once I do, the universe will be yours for the taking once again.'_

And as he slowly trailed after the Princess, his golden eyes scouring the dark walls of his prison one last time, Lotor could only laugh at how fickle fate truly was.

 

 


End file.
